


Trouble Is

by nu_breed



Series: Maybe This [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-04
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:19:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nu_breed/pseuds/nu_breed





	1. Chapter 1

They've never talked about it, not really.

The only time they even broached the subject, it didn't go beyond Chris taking Jensen out and getting him shitfaced and mumbling, "Sorry about Jared, man," and Jensen mumbling " 'sokay" and that being the end of it.

But it wasn't the end at all. Jensen still ached, thinking about the way they'd looked that morning when he walked in. Chris draped all over Jared, mouth and hands everywhere and Jared's head tipped back, that _look_ on his face, the one Jared only gets when he's wound tight and so turned on he's on fire. Jensen hated that anyone other than him had been responsible for putting that look there, especially since that anyone was Chris.

But Jensen knows he walked away and he treated Jared like shit, so he really can't blame Jared for hooking up with someone familiar, someone who was connected to Jensen as deeply as Chris is. The hurt, the betrayal, though, that's still there bubbling under the surface, like a volcano that's lying dormant, but still alive.

That's not all that bothers him, though. Jensen would've been lying to himself if he tried to say seeing them together like that hadn't made him crazy in other ways. If he tried to say it hadn't made him hard and made him want to be more than just an observer. He wonders if half his anger over the whole thing wasn't anger at himself, not just for treating Jared the way he had, but for wanting to be a part of it, too.

Jensen's not the only one who's holding onto it, either. Chris still watches Jared sometimes, when Chris thinks nobody's looking; when Jared stretches and his shirt rides up, far-too-baggy jeans slung low on his hips and that strip of tanned skin just there, teasing. Jensen sees the heat in Chris's eyes, the way his neck contracts as he swallows, hand gripping his beer bottle just a little too tight.

He sees the way Jared is with Chris, too. Jared laughs a little too long at Chris's jokes and leans in a bit too close, staring up at Chris from under his eyelashes, like a high-school girl trying to perfect her flirting techniques. Not that Jared's need perfecting.

Jared's hornier than a dog in heat after Chris has been around; Jensen knows exactly how desperate and needy he is. If they're at a bar, Jared'll drag Jensen into the nearest bathroom, lock the door and beg Jensen to fuck him right then and there, or drop to his knees and suck Jensen, hard and fast.

Jensen isn't worried. He knows Jared wants him more than anything. Knows Jared loves him and knows this thing between Jared and Chris could never ruin that. But Jensen doesn't want it to be a brick wall between him and Jared, either.

There's always been this unspoken thing between him and Chris anyway. They've never acted on it, but there was that one time when they were nineteen, twenty, and they'd been drunk as hell on tequila slammers and Sol and Jensen had just leaned over and kissed him. They didn't talk about it, ever, but Jensen remembers what Chris's lips felt like under his, warm and wet and softer than they should've been.

So yeah, maybe Jensen wants in.

***

Jensen's asleep when Jared gets home from New York. Eight on Saturday morning and normally Jensen would've been up by now, a run and breakfast, but he drank a little too much the night before. Tequila shots at Chris's bar followed by champagne at the opening of some new sushi place in Hollywood, with Chad. Jensen still doesn't know how Chad managed to rope him into being his date, especially when he got left within an hour when something better came along. Yeah, Jared's employment may be gainful these days, but Chad's? Not so much.

Jared's been on a ten-day shoot for As the World Turns and it's the longest they've spent apart since they moved in together. Jared's starting to get pretty successful; the casting directors seem to like his face, and he's up for the role of the new doctor on Grey's Anatomy. He'll probably get it, too; he's damn good and he's pretty enough and at least he wouldn't be the only queen in the cast.

Sometimes Jensen wonders where he'd be if he hadn't fired his manager and ruined all his chances of his future on a plate. But then Jared wouldn't be in his life, and that's a far worse prospect than not being the next Matt Damon.

Besides, things are picking up for him. He's working on a semi-independent right now, a gay love story set in the 1950s, directed by William H. Macy. William Fucking H Macy. He tells everyone who'll listen that he sure as shit wouldn't've got that opportunity if he was doing whatever shit Lucille was offering him after Devour. Wouldn't've been willingly taking gay roles, either. Who knows, he might even get to go to Sundance with this one.

He wakes as soon as Jared's key turns in the door; stretches and rolls onto his back. Jared walks into the bedroom and drops his bag on the ground.

"Man, that flight sucked." Jared yawns, kicking his sneakers off and sliding in next to Jensen, under the covers. "There was this guy next to me who talked the whole way. All I wanted to do was sleep, but as soon as he heard my accent? I had no chance." He leans over and kisses Jensen, soft and slow, breathing a "Hey" into his mouth.

"Mmmm." Jensen rubs his eyes. "Missed you."

Jared lifts up the covers, a smirk on his face.

"I can see that. Want me to take care of it?"

"Yeah," Jensen groans. "That'd be. Mmmm. Good."

Jared wastes no time kicking the duvet halfway down and wrapping his hand around Jensen's cock, thumbing the head. Jensen lays a hand on the back of Jared's skull, his thumb stroking silky hair. Jared hasn't cut his hair and Jensen's glad, he likes it long and shaggy and lush like it is, and it's perfect for twisting his fingers in when he--

"Fuck." Jared's mouth is always hot and wet and perfect, and in all the time they've spent together, all the kinky shit they've done, the fucking on every surface of the house, in every room, this is still his favorite thing of all. He loves everything about sex with Jared, but God, that mouth. "Goddamn," and he's never sounded more Texan than he does at that moment, "Jared, I missed you so much. Missed your mouth. Christ."

Jared deep throats with ease, of course; he made a fucking living out of it. Jensen's stomach twists at the thought and he wonders if there'll ever be a time when it doesn't sting just a little, thinking of Jared on his knees for anyone who paid enough. But it's not like Jensen can resent him for it. After all, he was one of those guys once.

He called Jared a whore once, a while back, when they were fucking. He had Jared cuffed, on his knees, and Jensen was slamming into him hard, so hard and he bit his neck and growled, "Little whore, aren't you? Just dying for my cock. You love it." Jared had come instantly and afterwards Jensen had felt like shit.

He'd uncuffed Jared and held him, saying, "Not a whore, Jare. Fuck. Fuck, I'm so sorry."

Jared had kissed Jensen and pulled back to look at him. "I liked it. Probably makes me the most fucked-up guy in the world, but I liked it." He bit Jensen's ear. "Only yours though. Only for you."

Jensen had choked back tears and nodded. Sometimes he wondered exactly what he had done to wind up with someone like Jared.

Jared grabs Jensen's other hand and puts it on his head and Jensen loves that they're so comfortable together now that they don't even have to ask for what they want; he grinds his hips forward and back, driving his cock into Jared's mouth. Jared moans around it and Jensen can feel the vibrations through his whole body and it's too much. It feels like forever since he's felt this, the perfect suction of Jared's mouth, the way Jared just loves to take it, and he feels like his body's turned to liquid and there's nothing but heat and wet and Jared and he's arching up, groaning in release as he comes down Jared's throat.

"Oh my God." Jensen's still breathless when he opens his eyes and Jared wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. His mouth is red and used and Jensen feels his cock twitch like it's ready to go another round. "Welcome home."

"I need a shower, man. I reek."

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but..." Jensen grins as Jared huffs out a laugh and pulls his t-shirt over his head, slow, his hip cocked out and deliberately looking like the gigantic flirt that Jensen knows he is. Jensen reaches out, traces down Jared's torso with his index finger until he reaches Jared's waist, hooks his finger in the waistband of Jared's jeans and pulls him down.

"Mmmph," Jared pushes Jensen back down, puts a hand over his mouth when Jensen tries to kiss him again, "Hopping in the shower. If you want, you can join me."

He rolls onto the floor, unzips his jeans and shucks the rest of his clothes. He rubs his stomach with one hand and then gives his cock one, two lazy strokes before padding off to the bathroom in bare feet.

Jensen groans. He's happy in bed, warm and comfortable and that's just not playing fair, dammit.

"That's the only invitation you're getting, dude," Jared yells over the hiss of the shower.

***

Jared hates flying, always has. It makes his skin dry and tight and no matter how much water he drinks, it takes a shower for him to feel remotely human again.

Jared wonders pretty much every day if this is even his life. It's like he's on autopilot, living the life he thought he was supposed to live a lifetime ago, and sometimes, it feels more like he's living the life that Jensen wants him to lead than anything that he would've picked for himself. Sometimes it feels like he's living the life Jensen would've had if not for the fact that he chucked it in for Jared, like maybe he's living out Jensen's fantasy career, now.

He's in the shower a couple of minutes when he hears the door slide open and he feels Jensen pressing up against his back, hands on Jared's waist like it's normal, natural. It's only been a few months since they moved in together, but Jared's gotten used to this so fast; waking up with Jensen, spending the whole day in bed if they want to, feeling Jensen against him, curved against his body like they're a perfect fit.

It scares him sometimes just how easy it's been to get used to this. He's lived for so long being calculated, not letting people get too close, and this is so far out of his comfort zone that sometimes he has no idea how to react.

Reacting isn't really an issue most of the time, though, not when they're like this. Not when Jared can feel Jensen's skin against his, Jensen's mouth against his back and warm breath on his skin. Jensen's teeth graze his shoulder and his head goes back, a sigh on his lips.

"Really missed this," Jensen whispers into his skin. "Missed touching you. Bed felt so empty without you there, like I kept expecting to reach over and feel you next to me."

"God." Jared nearly jumps as he feels Jensen's hands palming his ass, slippery with conditioner, a slick finger tracing up and down the crease, and he bites his lip when two of Jensen's fingers push in, slow and steady.

"You want this?" Jensen's other hand grips Jared's cock, not moving, just... there. Jared puts his hands on the wall in front of him, turns his head away from the water because the spray is too hot. _He's_ too hot, and he nods.

"Say it," Jensen growls. "Say you want it."

"Fuck." Jared can feel Jensen's hand on him, tight and warm, and his fingers inside Jared's hole, unmoving but still there. He groans, "Yeah, fuck me, Jensen. I want it. Want you, fuck."

Jared can feel Jensen breathe, "Yeah," against him and his hand starts moving, slick and so good, stroking Jared's cock and man, Jared feels like he's been hard as nails for hours now because he's getting close far too quick. Jensen's touching him just the way Jared likes it, long, slow strokes, his thumb swiping the head and all the while fucking Jared perfectly, adding a finger and grazing that sweet fucking spot inside him.

"Christ, I want your cock, Jensen." Jared's breathing hard, babbling filth, as easily as if a switch has been flicked. "Want you. Ah, fuck. Want you inside me so bad."

"I know you do." Jensen's voice is so calm; you'd think he was just having a normal conversation, not screwing Jared senseless with nothing but his hands. "Gonna get you on your back, spread you open and fuck you so hard you won't sit down for a week."

Jared comes with a choked-off moan, Jensen fucking him right through the aftershocks, and when Jensen finally stops and Jared comes back to himself, the water is starting to get cold.

"You're so predictable," Jared mumbles, turning around to face Jensen and pulling him in for a kiss. "Always gotta be the toppy little bitch."

"Ah, you love it." Jensen grins.

Jared's got to admit he kind of does.

***

New Year's Eve had always been a big night for Jared. He and Chad'd start early, 'round four in the afternoon, with some lines and a bottle of Cuervo, and by the time they'd leave to go to whatever party they'd been invited to in the Hills, they'd already be halfway to very fucked up.

This year couldn't be more different. Chris's invited them to his bar for a little closed-doors get-together. There are maybe thirty people there and free champagne at midnight, along with Chris and his pal Steve providing the music.

It's weird being around Chris. Jared'd made it clear to Jensen early on that the thing with Chris was just that once, that he'd picked Jensen and besides, unless Jensen wanted to just throw aside his friendship with Chris, the three of them were going to have to try and put aside what had happened and move on. Jensen's seemed to find that remarkably easy, but Chris? Well, Chris is pretty damn hard to read at the best of times. Still, Jared sometimes looks into Chris's eyes and sees something there he isn't sure he wants to think about. Feels this warmth in his stomach when he sees whatever's reflected in Chris's eyes and feels like he's cheating simply by not looking away.

Jared sometimes wonders if Jensen can see it, too. He really hopes not. There's no contest as far as he's concerned. He loves Jensen, wants to be with him, wants _him_ more than anything, anyone else. Chris, though, there's just something between them whenever they're together. Jared wonders whether that's something they're going to have to deal with for as long as all three of them exist in the same space.

Steve and Chris sound amazing. They both have fantastic voices, but Jared finds himself listening for Chris's and it makes him feel like his skin's vibrating. Chris's voice is thick with sex and whiskey and cigarettes and when Jensen points out a booth for them to sit in, Jared follows him, carrying the drinks, and doesn't dare look up at the stage to lock eyes with Chris.

They're up to their sixth shot plus two or three beers and Jared's pressed up against Jensen, fingers idly tracing the fraying inseam of his jeans.

Steve and Chris are taking a break and there's a Ryan Adams and the Cardinals CD playing. Jensen leans in, face just a few inches from Jared's, and brushes his lips against Jared's ear.

"I see you looking, y'know. At him."

"Huh?" Jared takes a pull on his beer and keeps looking straight ahead, not sure if he likes where this is heading.

"Chris." Jensen has his thumb on Jared's cheek and he traces the line of bone. Jared's heart feels like it's just leaped into his mouth. "It's really all right, Jay. I get it."

"You. You do?" Jared turns to face him and Jensen nods.

"Yeah, I do. There's history there, and he was there for you when you needed him." Jensen drains his beer, slams it back down a bit hard on the table, and Jared jumps. "But we need to do something about it."

"We do?" Jared swallows, confused as hell and freaked out and Jensen isn't helping any with this calm, controlled way he's discussing the whole subject. Jared thinks he prefers it when Jensen just flies off the handle. "I don't get you, Jensen."

"You two have unresolved business, and I don't want this thing to be a brick wall between us, Jay." He licks his lips; they look chapped, and Jared's surprised that anyone who moisturizes as much as Jensen does can have dry anything.

"Spit it out, Jen." Jared finishes his own beer. "You're not making sense."

"I think we should." Jensen stops himself, obviously trying to choose his words carefully. "I think we should take Chris home tonight." Jensen doesn't sound calm and controlled now; his voice is shaking and when he lays a hand on Jared's arm, Jared can feel he's sweating.

"What the fuck?" Jared half-whispers, because he really doesn't think anyone else there needs to hear this particular discussion. "You're out of your mind. Why?"

"I told you why." Jensen sounds about twelve years old then, uncertain and small. "If I'm in on this thing then it won't just be between you two anymore and we can deal with it. I don't want to share you with anyone, Jared, but right now, there's a part of you that he has and I don't."

Jared nods. In a fucked-up way he sees exactly where Jensen is coming from, but he still feels like it's a huge mistake. Three-ways, in his experience, never go well.

"Okay, let's say that I'm okay with this, and Chris--" Jared pauses and turns to look at Chris, busy flirting with an entire group of busty blondes who look like they belong on Girls of the Playboy Mansion. "--Chris is okay with this. Jensen, you need to promise me this won't make things worse, and I really don't think you can do that."

"Hey." Jensen grabs Jared by the belt and pulls him closer, kisses him on the mouth. "I was the one who asked you, remember?"

"Okay then." Jared nods, though okay really has nothing at all to do with it. If this is really what Jensen wants, then he's not going to say no. It's only sex, after all, and Jared doesn't really have many hang-ups in that area.

"Come on," he says, "we need to hit the dance floor for midnight." He pulls Jensen out of the booth, tight coil of excitement unfolding in his gut.

***

It's 4 AM by the time the bar's empty and Chris sits down with them, bottle of Maker's Mark in his hand and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He has stubble that looks about three days old and his hair's half in, half out of his trucker cap. His jeans have a hole in the knee and Jensen remembers when he bought those jeans, remembers all the times he's seen Chris wear them, and he wonders, not for the first time, if he really is insane for suggesting this whole thing.

He gestures to Chris and the bottle gets passed over. Jensen takes a gulp, the bourbon warm and smooth as it slides down his throat.

"So, uh," Jensen starts, licking the alcohol from his lips. "We were thinking."

He tries to ignore Jared's glare, but he can feel it even as he's looking down at the table.

"Okay, _I_ was thinking..." He passes the bottle to Jared who smiles just a little as he takes it. "Uh."

"Oh, for God's sake," Jared says, playfully impatient. "Jensen wants to have a three-way because he thinks it'll make things easier. I'm not so sure he's right, but I'm willing to give it a shot. You in?"

Jensen splutters and Jared claps him on the back, huge smirk on his face. Jared's not exactly shy when it comes to sex, and Jensen knows he shouldn't be surprised about that, given it was his job for so long. Jensen likes to think he's pretty uninhibited but apparently he still has his limits.

"Huh. Wanna pass me over that bottle, Jared?" Chris takes the bottle from him, takes a swig from it and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Chris's face doesn't give much away, it never does, but Jensen's learned to read him pretty well over the years. He's surprised, but not altogether shocked.

"You're kinda insane, Jen. But I knew that already." Chris has really nice-looking lips and Jensen can remember how they felt against his, and he's pretty sure soon he's going to get to feel them again. Chris isn't going to say no.

Chris takes a long drag on his cigarette and lets the smoke slide out when he speaks. "This could be a huge mistake, boys. You sure?"

"Just so we're clear," Jensen grabs Chris's cigarette from between his fingers and takes a drag, "this thing has to be just tonight, for as long as tonight lasts. Anything more than that and it's... different, y'know?"

Chris nods. Jared is sitting pressed up against Jensen and he lays one hand on Jensen's thigh. It's a non-verbal gesture that says so much and Jensen turns his head and kisses Jared, right there, one hand tangled in his hair, the other on his waist.

"Okay," Chris says, and when they break apart, Jared is breathing heavily. "Let me lock up. My place?"

Jensen sees Chris pushing Jared up against the breakfast bar, sees himself walking in and finding them there like that and his stomach twists into knots. He looks at Jared and it's like Jared read his mind because he's shaking his head and gripping Jensen's thigh.

"Nah," he says. "Our place is better."

***

When they get back to the apartment, Jared goes straight to the bedroom and gets rid of his shoes and socks and jacket. Pulls off his shirt and throws it and his socks in the laundry basket. Goes to the bedside table and lays out condoms and lube and has this huge sense of déjà vu.

This is what it used to be like. Standing there in his wifebeater and jeans and no shoes or socks, making sure the supplies were in the right place before he got down to business and it hasn't been that long since he quit, nine months maybe? Yet it feels like such an alien concept, feels like somebody else lived that life and it's amazing how something like this can bring it all flooding back.

He walks into the lounge where Jensen and Chris are downing tequila shots and Chris is rolling a joint.

"Y'know, if y'all retards are just going to keep drinking, you can forget about getting fucked tonight."

Jensen walks over, leery grin plastered on his face.

"Oh you're going to get fucked, Jay, you better believe that." When Jensen's turned on and talks like that, his voice bass-deep, it makes Jared shiver.

Jensen lights the joint and takes a hit, pulls Jared in with one finger hooked in his belt loops and the other hand palming his cheek, presses his lips to Jared's and when Jared opens, he blows the smoke into Jared's mouth, tongue stroking against his.

Jared moans, sucking down the sticky-sweet taste of marijuana. Beyond that, there's the rich taste of Jensen and tequila and it makes him want to drop to his knees right there, or just rut against Jensen like this, fully clothed. As it is, he's rubbing against him, can't help himself, and Jensen continues eating at his mouth, pausing for a minute to pull off Jared's wifebeater.

Chris whistles through his teeth. "Well, I think that's the prettiest picture I ever saw."

Jensen smiles against Jared's mouth and turns around to face Chris. Jared can still feel the imprint of Jensen's lips on his and he's starting to feel muddy from the pot, skin prickling and ridiculously turned on and when Jensen turns away, Jared just wants to pull him back.

"C'mere," Jensen says to Chris, low and raspy, and when Chris is standing close, Jensen grabs him, hands in his hair. Jared nearly moans when the two of them start to kiss, mouths open and this is... not what he was expecting and he doesn't think this is the first time it's happened, either. He makes a mental note to ask Jensen about it later.

Chris takes a hit from the joint and hands it back to Jared who takes his own hit, drawing smoke deeply into his lungs. Chris's hands move to Jensen's ass and Jensen's rocking against him and Jared's high as hell and had it with being an observer. This isn't the first time he's done this and he's sure as shit not going to just stand there when he could be right in the middle of it. He leaves the joint in the nearest ashtray, walks over and stands with a hand on each of them, fingers massaging their scalps. Jensen turns to face him, and so does Chris, and soon the three of them are kissing, messy and wet and so good that Jared can't help the moan that spills out from his lips.

Jared can feel himself maneuvered, his back to Jensen, who brushes his lips over Jared's neck as his hands ghost over Jared's torso, fingers playing with his nipples, and Chris is still kissing him, sucking on his tongue as he flicks open the button on Jared's jeans. He pulls away and draws them down, along with his boxers. Jared steps out of them and kicks them across the room and soon Chris is kissing him again. Chris tastes similar to Jensen; booze and pot on his breath, too, but different.

It's so strange, this whole thing. Kissing Chris, feeling him against naked skin when Jared never thought that would ever happen again.

Jared's so fucking turned on and it's all so overwhelming: Chris's mouth on his, Jensen pressed up tight against his back, cock riding the crease of Jared's ass. Marijuana and alcohol adding to the sensation and he feels like his knees are going to buckle.

"You're both a little overdressed," he mumbles. They laugh and Jared swears when this is over he's going to deck the both of them. He moves his hips back, trying to get more friction from Jensen, but Jensen's hands move to his waist and still his movement.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," Jensen says, as calmly as if he was suggesting what movie they should see or what they're going to have for dinner. Jared nods furiously and Chris just hums as he licks Jared's throat.

"Mmmm, so good," Jensen murmurs against Jared's neck. "Think you can walk on your own?"

Jared nods, anticipation pooling in his belly as he wipes his hand across his forehead and they both step away so he can collect himself before making for the bedroom.

***

When they're all naked and Jared's sprawled on his back with Chris above him, Jensen briefly wonders whether they were wrong in doing this here and not at Chris's. His chest aches at the thought of their bed, his and Jared's, being soaked with memories of Chris for all time.

But it's ridiculous giving in to that, because he wanted this, it was his idea. Besides, if they'd done this back at Chris's, in Chris's room, Jensen would've been obsessing the whole time about what they'd done there before, where Chris had fucked him, how many times and how many ways. Having that floating around in his head would be the worst possible thing at a time like this and he snaps himself out of it, brings himself back.

He leans over to Jared and kisses him lazily as Chris fucks Jared slow and deep with his fingers. Jared's head is thrown back and his hair is plastered to his forehead and Jensen swallows his moans, soothing Jared with his lips and tongue.

"Y'like that?" Chris half-whispers, his voice sex-rough and thick. "Get you ready so Jensen can fuck you? Look at you, all gagging for it."

Jared does this roll with his hips, fucking himself on Chris's fingers, and that sends a jolt straight to Jensen's cock. He can't believe how seeing Jared like this affects him, every time. He's so incredibly graceful for someone so tall, and when he's like this, spread out and all long legs and slim waist and liquid movements, it drives Jensen crazy.

Even crazier when Jared starts to make those needy, desperate noises that Jensen loves to force out of him.

"What do you say, Jared?" Jensen breathes in his ear, teeth grazing his lobe. "Want me to fuck you? Want Chris to fuck you after?"

"Anything." Jared's voice is shaky, ragged, and Jensen gets his hand on Jared's cock and fists it a couple of times, long, slow strokes and Jared's practically whimpering now, dual sensation of Chris's fingers inside him and Jensen's hand on his cock must be driving him insane. Jensen knows exactly where to touch Jared to make him even crazier, and he rubs his thumb down the underside of Jared's cock, hitting the nerves in just the right place, and Jared practically leaps off the bed, hips thrusting up. "God, please, Jensen. Chris. Just--"

Jensen looks at Chris and nods. He grabs one of the foil packets from next to him and tears it, moves to roll it on, but feels a hand on his arm.

"Don't," Jared says, eyes dark and glittery with lust. "Wanna see Chris put it on you. Please?"

"Hell, yeah," Chris groans and pulls out of Jared, moving up to face Jensen. He kneels in front of him and takes the condom out of his hand. Jensen's breathing shallow now, short sharp breaths that he can't control and his tongue feels thick and useless in his mouth.

Jensen's eyes fall shut as soon as he feels Chris's hand on him, rolling the latex over his cock, and he really hopes Chris doesn't do much, because he feels like he's about to shoot and there is no way he's missing out on the main event.

"God," Jared manages to get out. "Fuck, you two are. Kiss him, Chris. You want to, right?"

"Yeah, yeah I do." Chris gets one hand on the back of Jensen's neck and holds him close, tongue teasing at his lower lip, grazing it with his teeth until Jensen opens and shoves his tongue into the warm wet of Chris's mouth. It's so good, and with his other hand Chris is slicking Jensen up with lube. Jensen's hands curl into fists, digging his fingernails in, in an effort to take his mind off the feel of Chris's hand sliding over his cock, slippery and tight and so damn good.

Jensen breaks the kiss, needing air, but when he turns his head to look at Jared, he feels the breath catch in his throat. Jared is kneeling, facing the headboard. His back is glistening and Jensen wants to catch all the droplets on his tongue, lick a long line down his back and work Jared open with his tongue, taste desperation and want and Jared. But more than that he needs to fuck him, needs it now and Chris must see that because he's moving over to Jared, sitting flat against the headboard and leaning back. Jared bends forward, takes Chris into his mouth and just goes down on him.

Jensen feels his stomach clench, wishing he was in Chris's position, wishes he had that sweet-hot mouth on him, but it's okay, because he has Jared right where he wants him and he gets in behind Jared, hands on Jared's hips and pushing slowly in.

Tight fucking heat. It always amazes Jensen just how tight Jared still is, even after all the times they've fucked. He holds Jared there, doesn't move him like he normally would; he doesn't think Chris would probably appreciate that. He can hear Chris muttering filth about how perfect Jared's mouth is, can hear the noises Jared's making with his mouth; it must be hard for him to keep it up with Jensen slamming into him and pulling all the way out, but Jared's a fucking master at this and pretty soon he's got Chris right on the edge. Chris is staring at Jensen now, eyes on him as he fucks Jared with deep, hard strokes and Chris looks so damn good, biting his lip and his breath catching as he gets pulled over the edge, coming into Jared's mouth.

Jared pulls off Chris with a wet pop and Jensen pulls out, flips Jared over on the other side of the bed, legs wrapped around him up high and Jensen slams right back into him. He needs to see Jared's face, watch him come apart in front of his eyes. Jensen's back is so slick with sweat that he can feel Jared's legs sliding up and down on every downward stroke. It's too much, all of it, Jared's so tight and slippery-hot and his head is turned to one side, exposing that gorgeous long neck and if Jensen wanted to keep this going, he'd pull out and bite at Jared's neck, mark him up so that the tanned skin was marred with bruises that Jared could see on himself anytime and know exactly who it was that put them there.

But that's not what he needs right now, and he's so close, so fucking close. Chris has moved in and he's jerking Jared off as he licks into Jared's mouth. Jared's writhing now, driving his hips forward to meet Jensen's thrusts and driving his cock into Chris's fist and Jensen knows exactly when Jared's about to come, knows the noises he makes. Jared slams his hips up one more time, come splashing on his chest and chin.

Jensen's so close and the sight of Jared lying there, come marking his face and his mouth open trying to catch his breath, is enough to throw Jensen right over the edge. He grabs Jared by the hips, fingers gripping tight enough to leave bruises, and slams in one more time, deep as he can go, groaning as his orgasm hits him full force.

He falls forward onto Jared and lies there, still inside him, not wanting to move just yet. His face is pressed to Jared's torso and he can feel Jared's heart beating fast, not quite back to normal.

Jensen knows the feeling.

***

Just over two weeks later, Jensen leaves for Chicago for five days of pick-ups. Jared thought about going too; he's never been to Chicago and he wants to see for himself if the rivalry with New York is warranted. Jared's pretty sure he could definitively judge just who does make better pizza and hot dogs once and for all.

He decides against it; Jensen's barely going to have time to sleep, let alone sightsee, and there's always the chance he'll get called in for network auditions at ABC with no notice whatsoever. He'd be an idiot to risk his chance at a break like this just to go shopping on Michigan Avenue and get a slice at Gino's.

Jensen's ready to go at 5 AM, and Jared's barely awake. Jensen kisses him and tells him to break a leg, and throws out a lame quip about Jared making sure he's learned his sides for Dr. Drake Ramore.

"It's Dr. Steven Cale, asshole, I'm not Joey fucking Tribiani," Jared mumbles into the pillow. "You're the one with the sad-ass ex-daytime soap career. But that's okay, because you're a serious actor, now, right?"

"Whatever, biatch," Jensen says and kisses him again, brushing his lips across Jared's forehead. "Call you tonight."

Jared goes right back to sleep and has some horrible anxiety dream about auditioning for the network by dropping to his knees and blowing every one of the male execs in succession. They hire him on the spot, of course; if there's one thing Jared knows how to do it's suck cock. Sometimes he considers putting it on his resume; it is a special skill, after all.

Crazy what your brain does to you. The dream was totally ridiculous; it wasn't like he was auditioning for the CW, or anything.

"Oh, come on, Jared," Jensen had said once, when Jared had mentioned all the rumors. "Those casting couch stories are total urban myths. Tom auditioned over there a bunch of times and got cast. "

"I rest my case," Jared had said, raising his glass.

It doesn't take him long to start feeling antsy when he's alone. He doesn't know what to do with himself when Jensen isn't there and he almost misses the routine of hooking. Sure, he's had a few acting jobs, and that's great and all, but it seems so... distant. Like he's watching someone else's life. When he was hustling he felt in control, much more so than now, and it's ironic, because most people would think it was the opposite, but Jared knows better.

He always knew what was expected of him, he misses that certainty, and dammit, he fucking misses the money, too. He isn't exactly rolling in cash, and he hates relying on Jensen for handouts; it makes him seriously worry about the power balance in their relationship. He doesn't want to feel like a kept wife, because what's the difference between that and a whore?

And yeah, he knows he really needs to get over himself

Jared sleeps in far too long, and by 11 he's sleep-hungover and rank as hell. He stands in the shower till the water runs cold and misses Jensen's call. He tries calling back, but Jensen's phone's turned off and Jared doesn't leave a message.

He's bored, so he takes a walk down to Sweet Lady Jane for a slice of triple berry and a latte and looks over his sides a couple of times while he shovels moist, sharp-sweet perfection into his mouth. His phone vibrates and he doesn't recognize the number, but he picks up anyway, says "Hi, this is Jared," swallowing his coffee with a gulp.

"Yo, dipshit. Where you at?"

Jared laughs around a mouthful of cake; Chad hasn't called him for three weeks.

"New phone?" he says, finishing his coffee. "That's gotta be a record."

Jared hears Chad light up and suck smoke into his lungs. His voice is scratchier when he speaks again.

"Left it in Justin Hartley's beamer, man. His wife found it and did a Russell Crowe. But score for me, because, dude, I got a brand new Motorizr and a bottle of Jack out of it. He felt real bad."

"Yeah, well, it's not the first time she's caught him and it won't be the last." Jared licks his finger and picks up the stray crumbs left on his plate. "I'd quit while I was ahead if I were you; she's got a mean right hook."

"Have I taught you nothing?" Chad asks and Jared can just hear the smirk on his face. "You don't turn down swag, especially when it comes from pretty-boy actors. You of all people should know that."

That feels like a kick to his gut and Jared wants to slap the smirk off Chad's face, but he knows exactly what's driving the attitude. "I haven't forgotten you, man. Just. I just got a different job now is all."

"Yeah, about that..."

Jared recognizes the tone in Chad's voice and he knows he should hang up right fucking now. That's the tone that comes before "Just one more line, okay?" or "They're paying top dollar, Jay, come on."

"Whatever you're going to ask, the answer's no." He swallows and his throat feels scratchy.

"It's just a party in the Hills, I just need a wingman's all. You wouldn't even have to do anyone; just drink some free champagne and look pretty. "

Chad must be really high if he expects Jared to believe that. They've both been to more parties in the Hills than Jared can count and he's never just had to stand there and look pretty. It's how he met Jensen, after all.

"Chad," he warns, "just stop, okay?"

Jared needs Chad to stop because there's a part of him that wants to, and he doesn't want to think about that. About the fact that he misses parts of the lifestyle and if he's honest with himself, it's who he really is. If it weren't for Jensen, he'd be there in a second.

"I don't do that shit anymore, you know that." He licks his lips; they're sweet and bitter at the same time. "I have a new life now."

"Yeah, well. The Jared I knew wouldn't leave his best friend hanging."

Oh, fuck _you_ , Chad.

There's a long pause and Chad exhales through his nose.

"Man, I'm sorry, that was. Fuck. Forget it. I suck. I'm the biggest piece of shit that ever lived."

"Oh my _God_. You are such a drama queen." Jared pays at the cash register, holding his phone under his ear, and walks outside. "Call me later, okay? We can do breakfast tomorrow or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Chad sighs and hangs up.

Ten minutes later, Jared gets a call from his agent. The good news, she says, is that the network loved him. The bad news is that they've gone with someone else, because they just felt that Jared wasn't... innocent enough.

He calls Jensen, but it goes to voicemail and his mailbox is full and Jared feels the knot in his stomach winding tighter and tighter.

The thing is, he does look innocent. He gave a reading that couldn't have been more sensitive and naive if he'd tried. Half a bottle of vodka later it hits him that he recognized the exec in the Armani suit and the D and G tie. They'd met before.

Maybe Jared should've just dropped to his knees then and there, since that seems to be the only currency anyone understands in this town. Maybe his subconscious was trying to tell him just that. Wasn't so much a dream as a premonition.

It's pretty obvious that this gig wasn't meant to be, but how many opportunities like that are going to come up, and even if they do, what's to stop the same thing from happening again?

Chad always says, "Once a whore, always a whore." Now Jared knows exactly what he means.

Jared's a pretty decent actor, but he was a fucking great hooker and as he works his way through the rest of the bottle he wonders which profession is worse. They're both fake and they're both full of fucked-up, fucked-out head cases, and maybe Jared was just kidding himself by quitting in the first place. Maybe this is exactly who he's supposed to be.

It takes him an hour to finally call Chad back and ask what time Chad's picking him up.

***

Chad arrives at nine and Jared's only half-dressed. He's freshly showered, his hair still a little damp, and he hasn't decided what shirt he's going to wear. Chad walks in, takes one look at his wardrobe and throws a black, sleeveless button-down at him.

"Got anything to drink around here?"

"Kitchen's through there." Jared gestures. "And, dude, I can dress myself quite capably, thank you."

"Uh-huh." Chad comes back in with two beers. "That's why you were standing there looking like you always do: wet, hot and bewildered. Let's face it, Jay. You don't know what looks best on you. I do." He grins and knocks back his beer. Jared sighs and buttons the shirt. It fits super-tight across his chest, but that's really the point, and Chad's staring at him appraisingly, nodding.

"See? I told you."

"Yes, Mom. You always know best." Jared grabs his beer from Chad and drinks.

Jared's hesitation has less to do with choosing an outfit and more with _What the fuck are you doing, Padalecki?_ But he can't start thinking about that, because if he does then he'll have to try to make sense of why exactly he's doing this in the first place, and that would mean he'd have to admit that what he's doing is cheating on Jensen. Sure, he's going as Chad's wingman but he fucking well knows what happens at parties in the Hills and he agreed to go anyway.

It may not technically be cheating, but he feels like it is and he's sure as hell Jensen'll think so, too.

Jensen left a voicemail message while Jared was in the shower. Jared could barely hear him over the thump-thump of the music, and he guesses Jensen's at a club with his co-stars, probably lounging on some sofa, drinking far too much champagne and flirting with pretty, starfucking boys left, right and center. Jared hates it when Jensen gets recognized when they're together, feels like he doesn't exist and he's sick of not existing. So really, he isn't about to do anything Jensen isn't probably already doing.

By the time he drains his beer, he feels like maybe he could almost believe that.


	2. Chapter 2

***

As soon as Jared and Chad step through the door, it's so déjà vu Jared wants to laugh till he cries. Six months away, and nothing's changed, not one bit. It's still him and Chad, walking in as if they own the room, grabbing champagne from the waiter, who is always model-pretty and looks them both up and down with a smile on his face.

Chad leans in, like he always does. One hand on the waiter's waist and he slips his number in the guy's back pocket, tells him not while Chad's working, he can't afford him, but maybe later they can work something out.

_I don't come cheap, but I like you, so I'll give you a break._

Jared slams his champagne back; the bubbles tickle his nose and it's sickly sweet, but good, and he puts his empty glass back on the tray and grabs another. He doesn't care whether or not there's another pretty boy circling the floor with a tray for the empties, he wants more right the fuck now and finishes his new glass in seconds. Anything to forget another night, just like this, where he took the prettiest client he'd ever had upstairs and everything changed.

Everything and nothing.

Chad drags him outside to the deck, and within minutes he has six foot three of Justin Hartley draped all over him, teeth grazing his ear. Justin still kinda takes Jared's breath away to look at. Boy's far too pretty for his own good or anyone else's.

"Where's your wife?" Jared asks, eyebrow raised.

"Fuck, Jared." Justin grabs Jared and pulls him in, so he has an arm around both waists. "I thought you weren't. I mean."

"So cute when you're flustered." Jared smirks, and it's like he can't help himself. All the old moves are still there; it's like riding a bike.

Justin stares at him, can't keep his eyes off Jared's mouth, and there's such a thrill in knowing that he's still got it.

"I mean I heard you set up house with Mr. Perfect Poster Boy himself. Even got yourself an agent." Jared doesn't know that he likes the almost-sneer in Justin's voice one little bit. Sounds like Justin thinks Jared's attempts at a normal life are just a big joke. But it's not like Jared doesn't agree with him.

"I did. I have," Jared corrects himself. "I'm just here to have a little fun, no business."

"Fun, huh?" Justin waves a baggie in front of Jared's nose, kisses Chad full on the lips and turns back to Jared, lips quirking into a grin that's at best bordering on filthy and at worst an invitation. "We can have some fun, Jared." He leans in close, too close. "Jenny doesn't need to know a thing."

Jared hesitates for a second, but why the fuck not? One line won't hurt, he'll be up and down so quick he won't even notice and fuck, if Chad can do it, so can he. It's not like he's going to end up with his ass in a sling over one fucking line, now, is it?

Sure, he hasn't touched coke in more than six months, but he can't be sober, not tonight. Sober means he has to think about the fact that his big break got screwed up, and it easily could be again, because he's a whore. Was. Is. He doesn't even know anymore. Sober means he has to think about what Jensen would do if he found out. Sober means reality and Jared's had enough of reality for one day.

They end up in the bathroom, Justin chopping up lines, white crystals sparkling like glitter on the marble bench. He shoves a rolled-up hundred into Jared's hand. Jared swallows hard, like he has something lodged in his throat, and lowers his head. One line down and his eyes are watering, his sinuses stinging like fuck and the back of his throat coated in bitter tang. Chad grabs the hundred and does a line per nostril like the pro he is.

Jared grabs the rolled-up bill back; now that he's had one he wants more and fuck, it's not like one more'll make a difference now. He knows what he's doing, he's not a child; he doesn't need a conscience and he sure as hell doesn't need Chad laying a hand over his to stop him.

"That's enough, isn't it, Jay?"

"Not nearly." He pulls his hand away. "Thanks, though. Mom."

The second line hits him harder than the first. Stings more, and he's leaning back against the bench, moaning a little as he wipes his nose with the back of his hand.

Jared can feel the burn in his skin, can feel the drugs coursing through his bloodstream and his head feels so heavy, it seems to roll back of its own accord. He stretches, shirt riding up, and when he focuses again, Justin is staring at him, staring at the patch of exposed skin and Jared grins and bites his lip.

He feels powerful again, and he likes being looked at like that by someone other than Jensen.

"So fucking hot," Justin mouths into Chad's neck. "Both of you. Wanna fuck you both."

Jared can almost hear the unspoken _How much_ floating in the air.

"Not him," Chad mumbles. "He's not... that's not why he's here."

"Uh. In the room, asshole?" Jared feels like he's on fire; itchy, skin too tight and he's sick of Chad acting like he can't look after himself. He may be out of practice, but he can do just fine, thank you very much.

Not too out of practice to lean in and kiss the corner of Justin's mouth, whisper, "Thanks for the coke, baby, but I can't let you fuck me. Not tonight. I'm sure your boy'll take care of you, though."

"Satisfied?" he mouths to Chad, and gets nothing but a glare back.

***

They end up at some too-dark-to-see after-hours club. Jared thinks he should know the name, but they all look the same after a while. Not that he'd be able to read the name if it was emblazoned on the door. So very fucked up and he should have stopped hours ago, should never have touched the coke or the glass after glass of champagne. But this is what he's missed. Feeling invincible, like no one can touch him unless he wants them to. Unless they pay to.

They walk into VIP and Justin points to a spare couch at the back. Jared moves toward it, one hand on Chad's shoulder for balance. The couch is black leather and he feels like if he doesn't watch himself, he could just slide onto the floor like melted butter dripping off hot bread.

"Jay, what the fuck are you doing?"

Jared grabs the cigarette Justin gave him before from behind his ear and sticks it in his mouth, waiting. Chad rolls his eyes and lights it with the gold Zippo Jared gave him for his twenty-fourth birthday, and it feels so eerily familiar, like Chad's still looking out for him. Like he never stopped.

"What d'you mean?" He takes a drag and it feels soothing. As soothing as noxious chemicals can be, anyway. He's high and it feels... comforting.

"What do I mean?" Chad holds his hand out and takes a hit off the smoke. "Dude, when I asked you to come tonight? I wasn't expecting this fucking 360. This isn't you anymore."

"Maybe it is," Jared says, biting the inside of his cheek. "Maybe this is exactly who I am, who I've always been. Once a whore, right, C?"

"Oh that's cute, Jay. Real fucking cute. What the fuck's gotten into you?"

Jared shrugs and looks toward the bar. Justin's talking to some guy there, tall and dark but Jared can't see his face and he doesn't really care. He's starting to come down a little and a lot of that's on Chad.

"Shut up," Jared mumbles. "You're fuckin' harshin' my buzz, man."

"Good." Chad takes another drag on the cigarette and passes it back to him. "Hey, I know. Why don't you, gee, I dunno, call your boyfriend or something. Remember him?"

Jared flips him off, but his skin prickles at the thought of calling Jensen. He still hasn't done anything that constitutes cheating, not really, but if that's true, why does it feel like he has? Whatever, he's not feeling that high right now and he needs more. He finishes the cigarette, putting it out with his boot. Looks up at Justin and mouths, "Bathroom." Justin holds up one finger and Jared stands up, stretching, making sure Justin gets a good eyeful. Jared has no illusions about why he's getting fed drugs and part of him knows he should just fucking stop. Walk away and forget how much he likes it, go back to his life with Jensen and try and pretend that everything's fine. Try and pretend that tonight never happened.

He's not that strong, though, and the other part of him? Really fucking loves the attention.

"Where're you going?" Chad asks.

"Gotta take a piss," Jared says. "Why? You wanna hold it?"

"Oh, fuck off, then. I've got better things to do than baby-sit." Chad flips him off and heads for the bar.

Jared makes his way to the bathroom, walking past couples grinding on the dance floor to the dirty, raw techno beats coming from the DJ booth. Walks past two blonde girls making out, one's hands up the other's skirt.

"Hot, huh?" Justin is pressed up behind him, mouth on his neck and an arm around his waist. Jared looks over his shoulder and Justin has a bottle of Cristal in his other hand. Wow, this is familiar. Hard to pretend he's not cheating now, because it's not like he's never been in this situation with Justin before. Jared feels like he'd pretty much do anything for another line.

"Hot? Sure, if you like girls, I guess."

"I like you more," Justin purrs in his ear.

Jared untangles himself from Justin and walks backwards into the pristine bathroom. Everything sparkles it's so clean. All the stalls are free, but he walks into the handicap one without any guilt whatsoever. Justin locks the door behind him and stands with his back to it.

"Where's Chad?" Jared asks, trying not to sound bored.

"Talking to a couple of girls. I cut him loose."

"Why?" Jared bites his lip, not really needing to hear the answer.

Justin laughs. "Wanna get high, Jared? I know how much you like it."

Justin flips the toilet seat lid down and sits, giving the champagne bottle to Jared. Jared takes a hit from it and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Jesus." Justin shakes his head. "Is there anything that doesn't look like porn on you?"

Jared laughs, sick kind of thrill in his stomach at knowing he still has the ability to make anyone want him. He doesn't need innocent when he has that.

Justin pulls out a baggie, this time with four off-white pills in it.

"Not letting you fuck me for Ecstasy. Or anything else," Jared clarifies, and wonders who he's trying to convince by saying it in the first place.

Justin nods, and Jared straddles him, right there on the toilet seat. Puts his hand out and Justin pops one of the pills into Jared's hand. He puts the pill in his mouth and takes a huge gulp of Cristal. Too much at once and he struggles to swallow, the bubbles tickling his nose and his throat stinging.

"Yeah, baby," Justin goads, taking the bottle from him. "Go on, take it."

Jared bristles a little at that. No one but Jensen calls him baby and all of a sudden he's hit with this twisty feeling in his gut, like he's in knots. Chad's right, he should've called Jensen, should've done a lot of things and none of them are being locked in a bathroom cubicle with Justin Hartley and acting like a slut for drugs.

But there's no calling do-over now, and Jared takes another belt of the champagne, like that's going to help, before handing the bottle back to Justin.

"You know," Justin says, tipping his head back and washing his pill down with champagne before putting the bottle down on the floor, "you always were my favorite."

"I'd say you were mine," Jared traces around Justin's mouth with two fingers, "but I think we both know that'd be a lie."

Justin's tongue flicks out and laps at Jared's fingers. It sends a jolt straight to his cock, and Jared wonders, not for the first time tonight, just what the fuck's wrong with him.

"One kiss." Justin mouths Jared's jaw. "Just one and Jensen'll never know."

Jared nods and he doesn't know why. It's fucked and stupid, but he puts his hands on either side of Justin's face and kisses him. Just a soft brush of lips at first, but Justin tilts his head and licks between Jared's lips before his tongue pushes in slowly. Jared knows he fucking well shouldn't be doing this, but soon they're sucking each other's tongues and Justin has his hand spanning Jared's back, holding him in place as Jared involuntarily rocks against him. They're both hard, and Jared shouldn't be enjoying it as much as he is.

"Sure you don't want me to fuck you? It'd be so good, you remember, right?" Justin grazes Jared's neck with his teeth and Jared moves off him lightning-fast. He doesn't want any marks; it makes it all the more real, all the more unforgivable.

"Sorry." Justin's grin is filthy-dirty, his eyes glinting dark and full of promises Jared doesn't want to hear. "Can't help myself."

"Well, you'd better. I don't do that anymore." Jared glares at him, but he can't really blame the guy; Jared's been stringing him along all night, teasing him, and Justin fucking well knows it.

"Come on, Jay, let me make it up to you. One more line?"

Jared knows he shouldn't. He just dropped an E, for God's sake, and in about twenty minutes he's going to be supremely fucking twisted. But if Justin's offering, it'd be kinda rude not to take him up on it.

When they get back to VIP, Chad shakes his head and mouths, "You dumb fuck," and Jared just laughs, lays an open-mouthed kiss on Justin's neck and rides the wave that's already starting to well in him.

***

Jensen feels like it's been years since he partied, but it's really only been a matter of months. He feels so out of the loop, though, like he doesn't even know how to do this sort of shit anymore. It's not like he's old, for fuck's sake, there's other people he knows who are past thirty and going on benders every single weekend. But it just doesn't feel right. Doesn't feel natural.

He'd been well and truly over it even before Jared came back into his life. There'd been a few months, though, where the coke and the booze and the boys he fucked in secret were about the only things that kept him going, that distracted him from the Jared-sized hole that had been drilled into his heart.

It's weird on so many levels, being at a wrap party and sitting there like an observer, watching everyone else get ridiculously trashed and fall all over each other while Jensen just sips his champagne leisurely and tries for the tenth time to get hold of Jared.

"Hey, it's Jared. Sorry I missed your call. You know the drill."

Jared hasn't changed his voicemail since Jensen first met him, and it makes Jensen's gut twist every single time. No one else would even pick up on it, but Jensen remembers the first time he heard the message, delivered in that sex-rough voice. Remembers how nervous he was, how it took him days to work up the courage to call, his voice shaking as he left his number and wondering if Jared would ever call back. Jared _always_ called back.

But he isn't tonight.

"Jay, where are you? Call me."

Jensen shouldn't be worried; it's not like he expects Jared to be a saint while he's out of town. But things have been weird lately. He thinks it started after the thing with Chris, and that's concerning in and of itself. Jensen can feel jealousy stabbing at him and he doesn't want to think about it, can't bear to think about Jared feeling restless and dissatisfied with their life together.

Of course it's possible he's being completely paranoid. He really needs to relax; he's supposed to be celebrating, not going through a catalogue of insecurities in his head. He puts his phone away and ambles over to the bar, sits down next to Mark, the PA every queer on the project's been trying to cruise since filming started.

"Hey, Jensen. Having fun?"

Mark has really pretty eyes. A year ago Jensen would've spent hours trying to figure out if Mark was discreet enough to take home at the end of the night. Jensen's not about to do that, but he is lonely and a couple of drinks with someone easy on the eyes can't hurt.

"I guess." Jensen shrugs. "Kinda wishing I hadn't kicked that drug habit, though. At least people were interesting then. Present company excluded, of course."

He gestures to the barman and mouths, "Jager," holding up two fingers. The barman pours and Jensen slides one shot across to Mark, who clinks his glass against Jensen's.

"Thanks, man," Mark says, his eyes downcast. They both down their shots and Jensen'd forgotten how truly disgusting Jager tastes at first, but in seconds he's feeling warm and more content than he was before.

After a couple more shots, and a beer chaser or three, Jensen's feeling pleasantly hazy and, he has to admit, having a good time. Mark is great company; he studied film at NYU and he's bright and funny and not at all an industry asshole like half the people at the party. He's also not hard to look at, that's for damn sure. He's tall and broad, and when he leans forward, his bangs hang in his eyes and he reminds Jensen far too much of someone else.

Mark's not as beautiful, though. Not even close, but Mark is enough to take his mind off Jared if only for a few minutes and Jensen's glad of the company, though he feels guilty as hell for even thinking it.

Jensen doesn't want to focus on how tempted he is, so he finishes his drink, makes some excuses and heads for the bathroom. The alcohol's making him feel hazy and warm and he stands there and looks at himself in the mirror, laugh lines around his mouth and eyes and his cheeks red. He needs to wash it away, this thing he's feeling, so he splashes icy-cold water on his face and neck and hopes that'll help.

He grabs a hand towel and begins to dry himself, wiping away beads of water from his forehead first before closing his eyes and toweling off the rest of his face. He feels the buzz in his pocket and does a quick wipe of his neck before grabbing his phone.

Tom. Not Jared, and he almost doesn't answer it, it's probably just the latest in a long line of vain attempts on Tom's part to convince Jensen to go out with him to a club or some opening or a Hills party. Jensen loves Tom and all, but hanging out with him isn't exactly conducive to staying as clean and sober as he can. Not to mention the whole having a boyfriend at home thing.

But maybe some distraction in the form of a phone call isn't exactly a terrible idea. He leans against the bathroom counter and flips his phone open.

"Hey Tom, what's up?"

"Jensen. Man, I was about to hang up. You took your time."

"I was trying to decide whether I could be bothered taking the call."

Tom laughs. "Oh, man, that's cold. Where you at?"

"Dude, I told you like three weeks ago." Jensen rubs the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. Talking to Tom nearly always gives him a headache. "I'm in Chicago for pick-ups, flying back tomorrow."

"So you're not in LA, then?"

Jensen sometimes wonders why he even bothers speaking. Tom is such a fucking airhead and whatever brain cells he had in the first place are probably all dead from too much drug use. If there were a poster boy for "Drugs make you stupid" it would be Tom Welling.

"Chi. Ca. Go," Jensen spells out. "So, not in LA, Tom, no."

"Huh." There's a really long pause and Jensen checks his phone to see that Tom's still on the line. "It's just. Well, you know I love you, right, man?"

"You wanna tell me what's going on?" Jensen says. Cool. Measured. Totally the opposite of the way he's feeling right that moment, because Tom never talks like this and it's making him really fucking nervous.

"Uh." Jensen can hear Tom breathing this time. "I just. I was out at Structure last night and I saw your boy there. Jared."

Jensen wants to tell Tom that he must be mistaken. Structure's hardcore, and there isn't one patron in the place who isn't high, ever. Jared doesn't party like that anymore. But Jensen still feels his stomach twisting into knots, because it makes sense. Jared hasn't answered his fucking phone, or called Jensen back, not once, and maybe that's because he was too high to bother.

Jensen can't think about Jared being high, because that's the old Jared, the one who fucks and parties all night.

"Who--" Jensen clears his throat; he's aware that he sounds raspy and rattled. "Who was he with, Tom?"

"Well, at first he was with that little blond, you know, the one he used to... hang out with?" Tom is choosing his words very carefully and Jensen's just about to lose it.

"You mean Chad?" Jensen swallows and tries to get himself under control. There could be a stack of reasons why Jared was partying with Chad. Jared was probably lonely and needed some distraction. Jensen doesn't have a problem with that. Tom's intimation, though? Doesn't sound like nothing.

"Yeah, Chad." Tom pauses again, and Jensen wants to tell him to get the hell on with it. "They turned up later with Hartley. Mike saw them up at Jason Dohring's before, too. Said they all looked pretty cozy."

Jensen's head feels like it's going to split apart. Justin. Jensen knows all about Justin's reputation. He's seen the guy in action. He's fucking seen him in action with Jared, and he wants to bleach his brain, anything to keep from imagining the two of them wrapped around each other, both so fucking tall and pretty and--

"Jen? You still there, man?"

"Yeah. Look, I'm just. I'm gonna go." He wipes his free hand on his pants and swaps the hand he has his phone in, so he can wipe that one too. He's sweating insanely and he feels like he can't catch his breath. He's still going to give Jared the benefit of the doubt. Chad may be irresponsible, but he's a good friend and it's taken a while, but he and Jensen respect each other.

Chad wouldn't drag Jared back to... He just wouldn't.

"Look, it could be nothing, Jensen. Maybe Hartley and your boy just left together to do some blow or something, y'know? I just. I figured you oughta know is all."

"Left together, huh?" Jensen's free hand is clenched at his side and his fingernails are digging in, gouging painful marks into his skin. It's one thing to think about Jared and Chad partying with Justin, it's another when he knows Jared left with the guy, and now it all makes sense. The lack of contact, the fact that Jared hasn't even tried to call... He had said he didn't want to come to Chicago, that he couldn't because he had auditions to think of, and it's just all too coincidental. He'd been weird after the whole thing with Chris, and Jensen heard from his agent that someone else got the role on Grey's, yet Jared hasn't called.

He's withdrawing bit by bit, and now he's off with a client. Jensen can't work out what would possess Jared to do it. To just throw away his career and what they have to... what? Go back to what he was before? It seems so completely fucked that he can't even get his head around it. Doesn't want to, either. He feels ill and his head's pounding and he feels numb. Completely numb, paralyzed.

He disconnects the call while Tom is still talking and waits for the room to stop spinning before he even thinks of moving away from the counter.

When he gets back to the bar, Mark is still sitting there, sipping his beer, and it takes Jensen just a few seconds to convince Mark to leave the party and come back to the hotel with him.

Jensen fucks him face down on the carpet with one hand in Mark's shaggy brown hair. Face down is just right; it's perfect, because Jensen can pretend he's fucking someone else. He tries not to hurt Mark, but it's rough and fast and Jensen's breaking apart bit by bit, so he doesn't feel guilty for not being attentive and considerate. Not at all.

Afterwards he has to brush his teeth. The back of his throat tastes bitter and disgusting and he spends maybe half an hour just staring at his reflection, before he punches the bathroom mirror so hard it shatters and he spends the next hour pulling shards of glass from his skin.

It doesn't hurt, though. Nothing does.

***

Jensen doesn't sleep for more than ten minutes on the flight home. It's a first for him; he's usually the first one out and dead to the world for the entire journey, but there is no peace this time, no relaxation. When he sleeps, he dreams, and when he wakes, all he can think about is what's waiting for him when he gets home.

He doesn't know what he's going to say; there's no plan of attack. He's been swinging between white-hot anger and nausea for the last twelve or so hours and he's got hungover and well-fucked to add to the mix. He's so twisted up over Jared that he doesn't feel like himself and it's just the way it used to be before. Out of control, like he can't find his footing.

It's so ridiculously familiar that it makes him want to laugh, but Jensen thinks if he tried to laugh right now, nothing would come out but dead air, cloying and bitter.

Jensen stands outside the apartment for at least five minutes, his heart pounding in his chest, before he finally manages to unlock the door. Jared is asleep, face down on the bed, the sheet covering his ass. He's so beautiful like this, his arms folded above his head and masses and masses of sun-tinged skin. So beautiful that Jensen has to look away, because he's torn between wanting to climb in next to him and slamming his fist into Jared's pretty fucking face.

Jared stirs, rolls onto his back and opens his eyes sleepily. He stretches, and the sheet falls down, exposing the clear line of his hipbones and his perfect belly. Jensen's cock stirs in response. It makes him even angrier because he doesn't want this, doesn't want his body to react. But he can feel Jared's gaze on him, weighty and needing and he was never strong enough to say no to Jared. Jensen doesn't say a word, just strips down to his boxers and straddles Jared's hips.

"Hey," Jared drawls, sleep making him sound more and more like home, like summer barbeques and George Strait and Jensen can't deal with that, can't feel anything right now except anger because if he does, he'll fucking cave and he can't forgive Jared's betrayal.

"Don't talk," he says, flat and even. He pulls his dick out and moves up till he's straddling Jared's face. "Gonna fuck your mouth."

Jared looks confused for all of two seconds before he opens his mouth wide and Jensen sinks down into heat and wet, doesn't give Jared time to adjust before he's slamming in all the way, then out. He grabs the headboard for leverage and goes to town, hitting the back of Jared's throat with each thrust. Jared doesn't gag, of course; he makes it all look so easy. Takes it like a fucking pro and it makes Jensen's skin prickle thinking about all the guys who've been in this position, thinks about Jared doing the same to Chris right in front of his eyes, and wow, apparently he hasn't quite gotten over that yet. For the first time since he's known Jared, Jensen wishes he wasn't so fucking adept at sucking cock because right now all Jensen wants is to make him hurt the way he's making Jensen hurt right now just by existing.

Wants to, but Jared's too damn good and the sight of him, eyes watering, Jensen's cock pounding in and out of that mouth is enough to make Jensen groan and lose it right there, his orgasm hitting him full-force as he comes in pulses down Jared's throat.

Jensen pulls out and he can't resist touching Jared's lips, red and used and his mouth's wide open as he breathes heavily in and out. Jensen pushes away the tendrils of guilt he can feel unfolding in his gut and pulls his hand away as quickly as if it had been burned.

He looks down at Jared, debauched and still hard, and he feels his chest tighten, feels sick to his stomach and he needs to get away from it. Needs to get away from Jared. He leaves him without a word, leaves him lying there and heads for the shower, though he doesn't know how he's ever going to feel clean again.

***

Jared brings himself off to the sound of Jensen in the shower, strokes himself hard and fast thinking about water and heat on skin and wipes himself off with Kleenex afterwards. He feels pretty revolting: skin tight, sticky and dirty, and he contemplates joining Jensen under the heat and spray, but Jensen's giving off such strong vibes of "Don't talk to me, don't even fucking look at me," that Jared figures he'd better stay right where he is.

It's a little worrying, to say the least, this mood of Jensen's. He's distant, angry and so much like the old Jensen that Jared's feeling not only déjà vu, but a kind of dread building in the pit of his stomach.

The worst thing is, he loved it. Loved Jensen using him. It's been a long time since that's happened, and as much as Jared loves lying in bed with Jensen for hours on end, he misses the unbridled, ugly fucking that was so characteristic of the early days of their relationship. Sometimes Jared wonders if he needs therapy, he's so fucked in the head.

Jared's so lost in thought that he doesn't even notice the water stop, or the shower door open and close. Doesn't notice anything until Jensen's standing in the bedroom, beads of water on his neck and shoulders.

"So." Jared sits up against the headboard. 'We gonna talk about what's going on with you? Or just pretend like nothing's wrong?"

Jensen laughs, but there's no humor in it. "I don't think you want to hear what I have to say."

"Uh, yeah, I do." Jared leans forward, crosses his legs and rests his face in his hands. "So go on, hit me."

Jensen sits down on the bed, but not facing Jared. He's wearing boxers and his hair is sticking up in wet peaks. Jared feels like the space between them may as well be miles.

"You have fun while I was away?" he asks, and Jared takes a deep breath in. Inhales through his nose and out through his mouth. Jensen's pissed at him, really fucking pissed and his tone's so accusatory that Jared can only think of one person to blame.

"Fucking Chad," he whispers.

"Really?" Jensen says, bitter grin on his face. "Chad too, huh? And here I was thinking you spent the whole weekend just fucking Justin Hartley."

Jared feels the bottom fall out of his stomach. There's so much he wants to say; he wants to defend himself, to tell Jensen he's wrong, that's not what happened at all, but he can't. Even. Speak.

"That's not what happened," he gets out eventually, eyes fixed on Jensen. "It wasn't like that."

"Oh, really?" Jensen turns to face him and Jared wants to look away. Jensen's eyes are dark and Jared feels naked in a way that has nothing to do with sex. "So it wasn't you all over him like a cheap--oh, excuse me, _expensive_ fucking whore for everyone to see, Jay? Did you suck him off before the coke? Or after?"

Jared wants to laugh, except it isn't remotely funny. Jensen is acting like he used to: possessive, irrational and distant and Jared feels like he doesn't even know him anymore. What's more, Jensen doesn't know Jared at all.

"You're fucking delusional," Jared spits out. "And I'm over this."

"Hell," Jensen drawls, "you asked. You had to know this was going to get back to me, Jared. I just. I don't even know you anymore. Maybe I never did." He pauses. "I fucked someone last night; I fucked someone while you were out whoring your tight little ass. I hope it was worth it."

Jared can taste tears at the back of his throat, and he digs his fingernails into his palm. Needs the pain to distract him because fuck if he's going to lose it in front of Jensen.

You're right, he wants to say, you don't know me at all if you think I'd fucking do that, even though I wanted to, even though I wanted to so badly. But I know you and you're just the same fucked-up piece of shit you always were.

Instead, he looks Jensen in the eye and says, "You bet it was worth it. I'm fucking good at my job, baby. You of all people know that. Oh, and by the way, Jen?" He leans over so he's right in Jensen's space. "I just let you fuck my mouth. You owe me five hundred bucks."

He gets a sick sense of satisfaction from seeing the hurt wash across Jensen's face, because no one's ever hurt Jared like Jensen has and no one's ever going to again.

***

It amazes Jared how easy it is to slot back into his old life, just like he never left.

He moves back in with Chad and in some ways it's exactly the same as before, but in other ways not so much. They don't talk like they used to; Chad's so pissed with him for "throwing a good thing away."

But Jared knows better. He'd thought he quit tricking for all the right reasons, but it turns out he was just deluding himself. This is who he is, and it took getting away from Jensen to realize it. Jensen always twisted him up in ways that made it hard for Jared to see straight.

Chad doesn't get that at all. He doesn't get why someone who got out of this life would actually choose to go back to it. As much as Chad always told Jared not to believe in fairy tales, there's still part of him that wishes _he'd_ been the one to fall in love with someone who loved him back. Someone who didn't treat him like a useless little whore.

Except Jensen did, in the end. Jared'd been under the mistaken impression that Jensen had thought more of him than that, but he knows better now. Makes him laugh when he thinks back.

_It wouldn’t have mattered if you were doing it still. Not anymore. You’re all I think about and I don’t care about anything anymore except having you here with me._

Jensen's a fucking liar and Jared's better off without him, and if there are times when he misses Jensen so bad it feels like there's a hole in his gut, well, that's nothing that another line, another hook-up can't help to fix.

Sometimes, though, it's all he can do to stop himself from thinking about Jensen every time someone fucks him.

Sense memory is a bastard. It's so easy to recall Jensen's face; the way he would smile, the sharp planes of his jaw and nose. Fucking perfect mouth, full and lush. Sometimes when Jared closes his eyes, he'll see Jensen; cheeks stained red, turned on and so damn beautiful. See Jensen's teeth worrying his lip, and Jared practically has to bite down on his tongue to keep from yelling Jensen's name when his orgasm hits.

Jared can hear his voice, too, and when he's down on his knees blowing actors, producers, stockbrokers and lawyers, he can imagine Jensen, his bourbon-deep baritone groaning out words Jared will never admit he wants to hear.

He takes more drugs than he ever has. He needs to; it's the only thing that numbs him enough, that takes him outside of himself and shuts out every fucking memory of Jensen Ross Ackles he has stored away in his brain. Line after line of coke, meth-smoke pulled deep into his lungs, pills and weed and Valium to come down. Jared's just one big mass of excess and he feels like he's far off his game.

But that doesn't stop his clients from calling.

***

Jensen's always had a problem with breaking habits. When he was a kid, it was nail biting. His mother even bought that shit to put on them, to make them taste so bad that there's no way he'd ever want to put his mouth near them again, but he always did. Could never resist when it was something he loved doing.

It's that lifelong predilection for bad habits that make him not throw out the pictures he has of Jared, that makes him not delete Jared's number from his phone. Sometimes he'll just stare at the entry in his address book and wonder what would happen if he called, where Jared would be and who he'd be with. Whether he'd even pick up.

Sometimes, just sometimes, he wants Jared back so bad he can hardly stand it.

But Jared fucked up, he fucked up big-time and he never once said he was sorry. Maybe if he had, Jensen would have taken him back. Some days he thinks he'd take him back if Jared said it even now.

But Jensen fucked up, too, and Jared's cold when he's angry. Cold and bitter and he never lets anything go. Jared holds onto shit and Jared wasn't the only one who cheated. Jensen can't imagine that Jared still has Jensen in his address book, or that he wakes up every morning and has to physically stop himself from reaching over to touch the empty space next to him.

It's pathetic and useless and it's so ridiculously déjà vu that he can't stand it.

Jared's been gone six weeks when Jensen gets the call from his agent. He has an audition for Heroes and it's a major role. He'd be playing Daniel, Niki's new boyfriend who's able to control the elements. He says he'll think about it; he wasn't intending on going back to TV in, well, ever. Then again, his main reason for quitting just fucked him over and moved out, so what the hell does he have to lose?

He aces the audition, even though the sides are still being rewritten five minutes before he goes in, which makes him blank a couple of times. He's been out of the TV game for so long that his ability to learn pages of dialogue in a heartbeat is pretty much shot. The casting director doesn't seem to care, though, and his agent calls him that afternoon to say it's down to him and one other.

It's another six weeks and countless screen tests before he has Moira screaming on the phone that he has his comeback role. He wants to tell her that a) he doesn't need a fucking comeback because he never left and b) what she's really excited about is her fifteen percent. He hangs up with this flutter in his chest; he's thrilled, of course, it's a great show and a great role and there's nothing holding him back. Nothing except being forced into the closet again, because it wouldn't pay for the new addition to the NBC stable to be outed as a fag, whose ex-boyfriend just happens to be an A-list rentboy, now, would it?

Ex. The word still sticks in his throat every time he tries to say it out loud, and sometimes he just forgets. After he gets the confirmation from Moira, he brings up Jared's name on his phone and almost hits dial. It's just instinct, and Jensen thinks that's the worst thing about breaking up with someone you love. The fact that every fiber in your body still wants to gravitate toward them, to call them, to see them, to hear their voice and gain their approval. No matter how much they've ripped your heart out and stomped on it.

Then there's the other reason for wanting to call him. Jensen gets a sick sense of satisfaction from thinking about calling Jared and telling him all about how successful Jensen is and how he's going to be the next big thing and "Oh, maybe that would've been how it was for you if you hadn't fucked your life up, and mine, and I hope you're fucking happy, you miserable little whore, because I'm really not."

So instead of calling Jared, he calls Tom and they celebrate the only way Tom knows how: cocktails and blow at The Ivy and Jensen getting sucked in his car by a hot little twink with frosted tips. He thanks God for the coke and the liquor warping his vision because he doesn't think he wants to hazard a guess as to how old the kid is.

Three months since Jared left and Jensen wonders when it's going to stop hurting. Wonders when he's going to be able to get his dick sucked or kiss someone or fuck them without feeling nothing. He's starting to think this is just how it's always going to be.


	3. Chapter 3

***

His first day on set, first shot of the day is him slamming Niki against a wall, dry humping and kissing her. It's a surreal experience having to do that on camera anyway, much less with someone you've just met.

Ali Larter is probably even more method than he is, and when Beeman yells "Cut!" she pulls back and says, "Sorry about the bruises, Jensen."

"I don't have any bruises." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, which comes away candy-pink with lipstick.

She laughs. "Oh, you just wait, honey. Day hasn't even started yet."

She's right, too. Take after take and it's rough and primal and Jensen loses himself in the moment. He loves having someone to bounce off who's as intense as he is in the scene, and Ali's a consummate fucking professional who makes him want to lift his game even higher.

She's also the mother of the set and seems to know everyone's business: crew, core-cast, day players. Over lunch in Craft Services, Jensen gets more inside scoop than he wanted.

"So. You gay?" Ali chases food around her plate with a fork, wrinkling her nose. Jensen guesses she's not a big eater. "I always get the gay ones."

"No offense, but that's between me and me." He takes a drink of water; it's a hot day and he feels dehydrated and headachy.

"Oh please." She rolls her eyes. "Like anyone cares? This place is gayer than West Hollywood during Pride. Do you want to know how many queens you're in the company of?"

"Baby," he purrs, "unless I'm fucking 'em, I don't need to know. I'm the only one that matters, anyhow." He lets himself smile, really smile for the first time in what feels like months.

Ali laughs. "You are fierce, Jensen Ackles. I think we're going to get along fine. Let's just hope they don't kill you off at the end of the season, shall we?"

The first fourteen weeks go by so quick that Jensen can't even remember what things were like before Heroes. His fight trainers love him because he isn't scared of throwing himself into it balls and all, which makes the producers a little nervous, but hell, they're always nervous. He's gotten his line-learning down pat again and his chemistry with Ali is so fantastic the two of them get the EW cover on September 26th.

Jensen takes Ali as his date to Milo's belated 31st at his new place in Malibu. Milo being Milo wanted to wait till the weather was better so he could show off his deck. Jensen thinks that wasn't the stupidest idea in the world, because it's damn beautiful.

Jensen's standing at the bar waiting to order his and Ali's drinks and it hits him: he's always wanted a beach house, ever since he first came to LA, and this year it might end up being more than just a pipe dream.

Life is good. It's perfect. He's living more of a charmed existence than he ever has and it feels fucking good to be Jensen Ackles.

He takes the two Cosmos and turns around and walks right into a hard, broad chest. Jared's chest.

***

It's one of those moments that reads like a fucking movie. Desperate for a drink, Jared walks up to the bar and ends up with a chest full of Cosmos and a stunned Jensen. Which one is more stunned, though, that would be the question, and Jared thinks Jensen'd probably win.

For a start, Jared knew there was every chance Jensen'd be there. It should've stopped him from taking the job in the first place, but it was easy money; he didn't even have to stay by Milo's side after he blew him--Milo had his girlfriend to be his escort, and Jared got a quick five hundred.

He hadn't been keeping enough of an eye out, obviously; he'd spent the last few minutes chatting with some producer who promised him an audition. The ones who think he's an actor all do that and eventually he has to walk away and get hammered because it's too big a fucking reminder of what he gave up.

Which is how he ends up with a wet shirt and a pounding headache and Jensen stammering, "Oh fuck. Um. Hi, Jay."

Jared wants to punch him and tell him he lost his right to call him Jay when he falsely accused him of hooking, but then again he's kind of proved Jensen right in the end, hasn't he?

"It's cool." Jared shrugs and pulls his shirt over his head. "Got another one in the car."

"You're... working?" Jensen is staring at his neck, which is sticky-wet with alcohol, and Jared's stomach's flip-flopping so much he can't even feel smug about it, though he'd love to tell Jensen that it's none of his fucking business what Jared's doing there.

"Yeah," he says instead and gestures towards the door. "I gotta get another shirt and wash up, so..."

"Cool, I'll see you 'round then." Despite the casual words, Jensen still looks shell-shocked, but Jared's in no condition to appreciate it.

Jared nods and walks away, forcing himself not to turn back even though every fucking nerve in his body is telling him to. It's over between them, and the sooner he can fucking believe that, the sooner it'll stop feeling like agony every time he walks by a newsstand and sees his picture, or turns on the TV and sees him pretty and perfect and so charismatic.

He thought that drugging and drinking and fucking would tear Jensen out by the roots, but he's starting to think nothing can do that. All he can do is try and numb the pain the only way he knows how.

***

Jared washes in the upstairs bathroom and dries off with the non-soaked portion of his shirt before throwing it in the garbage. It's just a crappy black tee and it's not like he can't afford a new one.

The shirt he had in the car is the Metallica t-shirt Jensen bought him for Christmas. It's about a size and a half too big for him now.

He wants to stop thinking about Jensen, _needs_ to stop, so he leans back against the tiles and does two bumps, one for each nostril. It burns. He normally prefers to smoke meth because snorting it's so fucking harsh, but desperate times and all. He lets himself slide down till he's on the floor, can feel himself melting into the wall, like it's liquid, like he's liquid, the crystal working its way through his bloodstream and making him pliant and warm and so fucking horny.

Yeah, good plan.

He stands up when the door opens, and he shouldn't be surprised when Jensen walks in, his boots making clip-clop noises on the tiles. Damn, you look good, he thinks, and when Jensen blushes, he realizes he's said it out loud. He can feel himself wanting to slide to the floor again when Jensen walks up to him and pulls him in for their first kiss in months.

Jared can taste smoke and alcohol on Jensen, his mouth hot and hungry. It's like a jolt to Jared's cock and he feels like he's splintering apart every time Jensen's tongue strokes against his. Jared moans and Jensen stops, pulling back so fast that it's like a backhand across the face.

"Fuck, Jared, we can't. I can't."

"But you want me," Jared purrs, one finger trailing down Jensen's chest till he reaches his crotch. "You're hard, Jen, for me."

"Fuck you," Jensen whispers. "Stop playing games, man."

Jared laughs, and he can feel it in his chest, low and empty. "I'm not the one who started it. Just fuck me, Jen; you know you want to. It doesn't have to mean anything."

Fucking liar.

"I hate you," Jensen says. He sounds exhausted and resigned and Jared kind of wants to reach out and touch him, but he also remembers Jensen fucking some other guy and calling him a whore and that's enough to push him away.

"You don't change, do you, Jen?" Jared's really flying now, and his head falls back, too heavy for his neck to hold up. "Still so fucking conflicted. Poor charmed Jensen. So tortured and misunderstood."

When the punch comes, Jared's so fucked up that he barely feels it. He closes his eyes and tongues away the blood that pools in the corner of his mouth and when he opens them again, Jensen's gone.

***

When Chad comes home, around 8 AM, with a bag of bagels and a gallon of orange juice, Jared is sitting at the kitchen table, cigarette in hand and bottle of Jack in front of him. He's been in that same position for hours now, exchanging one cigarette for another, the liquor disappearing steadily, but he's still wired on a heady mix of meth and adrenaline. Chad has that look in his eyes, the parent look, and Jared wants to wipe it right off his face.

"You look like hell," Chad says, filling two mugs with water and putting them in the microwave. "What'd you get up to last night?"

"Usual." Jared takes a final drag on his cigarette and stubs it out in the ashtray, which is getting scarily full of butts and ash. "Sucked some dick, drank some booze. Oh, and Jensen fucking Ackles punched me in the face. All in all, the perfect end to my night." He raises the bottle to Chad and takes a huge gulp, almost choking on it.

"Jesus." Chad sits down in front of Jared. "Let me see."

Jared flinches when Chad grabs his chin and turns it toward the light.

"I'm _fine_ ," Jared grits out. "I guess I kinda deserved it."

Deserved it. Asked for it.

The microwave beeps, and Chad stirs instant coffee into the mugs, then slams one down so hard that a pool of hot liquid spills on the table in front of Jared.

"Man, watch it, will you?" Jared gets up and grabs a wad of paper towels, wipes coffee and grime from the area around his cup. "Don't really want third-degree burns on top of a cut lip."

"I swear, dude. The two of you need decking. You're as stubborn as two old mules and you'd keep my therapist in Maseratis for the rest of his life." Chad slurps his coffee and grabs Jared's pack of smokes, sticks two in his mouth and lights them, handing one back to Jared. "You're a fucking mess, Jay. I've never seen you this bad before. The two of you need to sort your shit out."

Jared snorts. Chad's view of the world is so fucking simple. Fuck, eat, sleep, drink, and party. Black and white, no grey. Well, Jared knows too damn well that when it comes to Jensen, things aren't black and white. They never have been.

"It's over," Jared says, simply. "Has been for months; the only shit to sort out is how I'm going to see his perfect, pretty little ass everywhere I go without wanting to smash a glass in his face."

"It ain't over, Jared." Chad takes a long drag on his smoke and blows rings when he exhales. "Not till you stop feeling sorry for yourself and stop acting like such a fuck-up. Lay off the crystal for a start, man, you know how fucked up that shit is."

"Fuck off, Chad." Jared takes a huge gulp of his coffee and looks away. "So fuckin' sick of being told how to live my damn life, didn't need it from Jensen and I don't need it from you; you're no fucking saint."

Jared can feel the hot burn of anger under his skin, making it tight and uncomfortable, and he wants this conversation--wants _Chad_ to just go away. A reality check is the last thing he needs today. He throws his cigarette into the coffee cup and watches it go out, grabs the bottle of Jack and heads for his room.

***

Jensen hasn't slept since the party; hasn't managed to because every time he closes his eyes, there it is. His fist slamming into Jared's face, the sick fucking thrill of watching him crumple and the look in his eyes that told Jensen that was exactly what he was after all along.

Which is why he's still awake nearly twenty-four hours later, the sheets itchy and alien against his skin, with a pounding headache that not even an entire bottle of Advil could probably fix.

He really wishes he could hate Jared, actively hate him. Maybe then they'd move past this unhealthy fucking cycle of hurting each other over and over, like some sick, twisted tug-o-war. But Jensen knows there's no way he could ever hate Jared as much as Jared hates himself.

He looked so fucking thin. Thin, and his eyes looked sad. Dead. Jensen hates that he's feeling sorry for Jared after all the shit he's done, but when it comes to him, Jensen can't be rational. When he saw him standing there in that fucking t-shirt that used to be tight and looking awful, but still so beautiful, Jensen couldn't pull himself back, couldn't think rationally. Had to pull him in and taste him, and...

So easily could've fucked him right there, pressed him into the tiles and just fucking owned him all over again, and he wanted to, wanted to so bad it was torture to resist. But Jensen knows damned well that if he had fucked Jared, nothing would have changed. Jared would still have been the same person he was when he cheated, and Jensen would've been so messed up over him that they'd probably have ended up where they were before Jared quit: bitter and fucked up and paying Jared for the pleasure of using his body.

Jensen rolls over when his phone starts vibrating, knows even before he looks at the display that it's Jared, and he shouldn't answer, should be strong for all the same reasons that he's just catalogued in his mind, but deep-down he isn't strong, he's fucking weak as weak can be, and he inhales deeply and picks up.

"Don't talk," Jared whispers. "Just. Fuck, Jen, I don't even know why I'm calling."

"Jared..."

"I said, don't talk," Jared spits out. "Or I'll hang up, I swear."

Jensen nods like he's expecting Jared to be able to see it.

"Just say yes or no," Jared says, even, no emotion in his voice. "Are you alone?"

You fucking know I am, you asshole, Jensen wants to yell, but he remembers the rules and barely whispers, "Yes."

"Good." Jensen can hear a sharp little intake of breath and he knows that sound, it's as familiar to him as breathing. He can feel his cock swelling with it, and he kicks the covers off and wraps his hand around his erection, not stroking, just gripping. His hand is cool and it makes him whimper a little.

"I fucking hate you, you know." Jared's breathing is ragged. "So. Uh. Fucking much. Want you more than I should, Jen, want you here holding me down, rubbing your cock over my hole and just. Shit. Fucking me."

"Jesus." There's no answer to that, and Jared must be far gone if he isn't berating him for not using yes or no. Jensen starts to stroke himself, thumb slicking his cock with pre-come and bringing himself off with hard, fast strokes.

"Nobody else ever fucked me like you." Jensen can tell Jared isn't going to last, and he hates that he knows that; he's gone months without hearing Jared's voice in his head, turned-on and sex-raw, and now he's never going to be able to get it to leave. "Love your hands." Jared's just babbling now and Jensen speeds up his strokes, wants to be there with him. "Your mouth, oh, fuck, your tongue inside me. Jesus fuck, Jen, are you close?"

"Yes," he barely gets out, he's so fucking close and he can feel every nerve ending in his body sparkling like electricity, jolts that he feels in his gut, in his cock.

"Then come," Jared pants out. "Fucking come on yourself, wanna hear it, wanna taste it on my tongue. You want me I'm yours. _Your_ whore, remember?"

Jensen can feel something twist painfully in his belly, but it isn't enough to stop him groaning, "Fuck, Jay, fuck," and it's over before it's even really begun. He thrusts into his fist one more time, one more rough stroke and that's it, he's groaning, almost keening and desperately holding back all the words that he can hardly stop himself from saying. Coming all over his chest and gasping, trying to breathe.

"Jensen," Jared breathes out and he's moaning too, groaning out words like "Fuck you" and "asshole" and "hate you."

There's a click then, but it takes Jensen a few seconds to realize that Jared's not on the line anymore.

***

Jared deletes Jensen's number from his phone. He can't have it there anymore, too fucking tempting. He's weak, he's not ashamed to admit it, and calling Jensen was the weakest, most pathetically stupid thing he's ever done in his fucked-up excuse for a life.

It can't happen again. He won't allow it to.

Hitting the delete button feels less like closure and more like losing, but Jared's fucked if he can even remember what the competition was about in the first place.

He showers and shaves for the first time in days, and when he looks in the mirror, he barely recognizes himself. His eyes look glassy, and his mouth's still a little swollen, and where he used to have definition there's nothing but bone, edges so sharp he feels like he might cut himself. There's a bruise at the base of his throat and more on his hips and maybe Chad's right, maybe he is a fucked-up, washed-out mess.

He winds up at the Four Seasons that night with a record producer and a drug dealer and some singer he knows he should recognize. They all look the same after a few shots anyway. He kneels in the middle of them and sucks them off, one after the other, and they all come on his face. He doesn't struggle when the drug dealer spikes him full of crystal, doesn't protest when the syringe comes out, doesn't tell them he's never mainlined and he never will.

Just takes it, because that's what his kind does, especially when they're kinda dead on the inside.

They leave him there, fucked and used and flying on Tina and Jared manages to wrangle his cell out of his pocket and laughs out loud when he realizes he couldn't call Jensen to swoop in like Prince Charming right now, even if he wanted to.

***

Jensen thinks if he went his whole life with the weirdest unexpected shit happening, opening his door at 9 AM to find Chad Michael Murray on the other side would still rank as the most fucking insane thing ever.

"You got coffee?" Chad mumbles, pushing past Jensen into the apartment and falling onto the sofa with his feet on the coffee table.

"Uh, Chad? Excuse me for being rude and all, but what the fuck do you want?" Jensen rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. "And would you please get your boots off my very expensive, Italian coffee table?"

"That is the gayest thing you've ever said, Ackles, and that's a tough call because you're an industrial-strength fag." Chad does as he's told and mimes drinking while mouthing the word "coffee."

Jensen rolls his eyes but turns on the espresso machine and brews two long blacks, turning back to ask Chad again, "I repeat, what do you want?"

Chad gets up and takes his coffee as soon as it's ready. "Okay, uh, well, it's about Jared."

"I figured that much," Jensen says, weighting his words with as much sarcasm as he can muster. "What makes you think I want to talk about Jared?" He takes a sip of his coffee. It hasn't cooled at all yet and he burns his lips.

"He spent last night in the hospital." Chad scowls. "Still not interested?"

Jensen feels like someone's squeezing his chest from both sides and he leans back against the counter. "What happened? I mean, is he okay?"

Chad moves back to the sofa and starts thumbing through the Vanity Fair with Jensen and five other guys, "The It Parade," dressed in black on the cover.

"Narcissism, it's a good look on you." Chad cocks an eyebrow. "He's fine, just got in way over his head with some psychotic dealer who jacked him full of crystal meth. Feels like shit, but he'll be fine. This, though? This thing with the two of you? It's gotta stop."

Jensen bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from losing it all over Chad. This isn't the first time the little punk's had the gall to tell Jensen how to run his life and in particular how to handle things with Jared, and he's a fucking adult and doesn't need some coked-up little whore giving him relationship advice.

"What thing?" he manages to force out, his jaw clenched and rock-hard.

"This ridiculous fucking see-saw of emo that the two of you have going on." Chad throws the magazine down and it sounds like a slap. "You do know why he lost out on that fucking role on Grey's, don't you?"

"Yeah." Jensen stares down Chad. "Apparently a real job wasn't in his game plan, whatever the fuck his game plan was."

Chad snorts. "You're a fucking idiot. Pretty, but an idiot."

Jensen throws his best _I'm listening_ look Chad's way, huffing a breath out at the same time so the little shit'll know how fed up he is with this whole relationship lecture. Funny how he still thinks of him and Jared as a relationship and not a co-dependent fucking mess.

"One of the network suits was an old client." Chad eyeballs him, and Jensen feels his legs almost give out. "They told Jared he didn't come off innocent enough, but he knew what that really meant, right? You were out of town and he was miserable, so he went to a party with me..."

"And whored himself out for drugs. I know how the rest of it goes."

"You don't know shit," Chad spits out. "Yeah, he crossed the line, and he used every trick in the book to get himself well and truly fucked up. But he didn't fuck anyone and he wasn't the one working. I was."

"Fuck." Jensen's struggling to keep his voice calm, but he's fighting panic and Jesus, why didn't he know any of this? Didn't give him a chance to explain, just trusted that Tom Welling, not exactly the sharpest tack in the box, knew what he was talking about.

"You can say that again." Chad laughs, but there's no warmth in it. "Look, he screwed up and so did you, whatever, but he's really lost." He stands up and walks over to Jensen, squeezes his shoulder.

"Where is he?"

"Well, see, that's the thing..." Chad bites his lip. "He's with your friend Chris."

"He's... what?" Jensen feels like the room's spinning and he doesn't know how to stop it, doesn't know how to get his footing back, and all he can see is Jared in Chris's bed, kissing him, stripping him off.

"Oh, calm down." Chad shakes his head. "He's only there because he couldn't call you, and I'm in no fit state to be looking after anybody after the night I've had."

"Man, I don't even wanna know." Jensen takes a deep breath in, out, in and out again and nods. "Okay, I'll go see him."

"You love him, right?" Chad asks, eyes narrowing. "Because he's so screwed up I figure it must be love. Nothing else hurts like that, y'know?"

Jensen doesn't answer, just grabs his keys and ushers Chad out the door.

Jensen doesn't barrel on in when he gets to Chris's place; he's made that mistake before, and though he wants to believe this is all perfectly innocent, there's still a part of him that's scared about what he might find, so instead he rings the buzzer.

"Yo."

"Open up, man, it's me."

"Me who?"

"Chris..." Jensen warns, his voice tight and strained just like the rest of him. "I know, okay? I know he's here and I know I fucked up. I need to see him."

The door opens and Chris is standing there in his sweats and no shirt and Jensen can't help it, his eyes scan Chris's neck and chest for any tell-tale marks. Jared's a biter and always leaves something in his wake.

"Jensen, what the hell?" Chris pulls him inside by his collar, and gets right in his face. "I can see what you're thinking, boy; I've known you nearly my whole life and you're still as damn insecure as the day you were born."

"What do you expect?" Jensen looks away. "He slept with you, Chris, and I see the way you fucking look at him and now he's here and what the fuck am I supposed to think?"

Chris shakes his head. "Put yourself in my shoes, man. Would you be able to not look at him, once you'd spent a whole night together?"

Jensen doesn't even want to think about it. He can't, but he knows Chris is right because God knows he never could get Jared out of his head, even when it was just fucking and nothing more.

"Why do you think he came to me that night in the first place?" Chris asks, and Jensen wants to tell him to shut up, to not talk about it because it feels like a wound that's healed over and Chris is poking at the scab and peeling it off layer by layer. "His last connection to you, Jen, and straight up, you and I had all that history and it's like we were both holding onto a piece of you we didn't think we could ever have again."

"It's true." Jensen looks up and Jared's leaning at the bottom of Chris's stairwell. "Didn't know it then, but I didn't hook up with Chris for his love of Garth Brooks, after all."

"You okay?" Jensen's struggling to keep the waver out of his voice, but it takes all his strength not to rush Jared right then and there, to feel that's he's okay with his own hands.

" 'm fine. Tired. Sick of sleeping, though. Thought I'd get up and see what the ruckus is all about." He smiles then and Jensen can't help but smile back. It's been a long time since he's seen it, that blinding grin that makes heat pool in his belly.

"Well, I'm gonna let you two kids chat," Chris says, pushing past Jared and walking up the stairs. "Be sure 'n' close the door on your way out, Jensen."

Jared gestures towards Chris's sofa and the two of them sit down, close, but not too close, and it feels so awkward that Jensen just wants to say fuck it, and go. But he's done enough of that in the last couple of years. Jared looks so fragile and broken, and Jensen knows he's got to start acting like a man if anything's going to change.

"Uh, so." Jared stops himself, closes his eyes. "Jen, am I the only one who has no idea where to fuckin' start?"

"God, no." Jensen huffs out a laugh; he's nervous and there's nothing at all funny about the situation, but he can't help himself. "I. Well, Chad told me everything, Jay. I feel like an asshole."

"You are." Jared grins a little, and Jensen's struck again by how thin he looks, how fucking pale and gaunt and yet, still Jared. "We both are. I dunno, man, how can we say anything that's gonna take it back."

"We can't." Jensen moves forward just a little, not enough to startle Jared, but enough to make some sort of statement, not that he has any idea what he's doing, he doesn't, but he's rolling with it anyway. "But maybe one day we might get past it? Jay, I want you in my life." He stops, correcting himself. "I _need_ you in my life, and everything else we can work out along the way."

"That's what you said last time," Jared says, soft, barely a whisper, "and look what happened."

"I know." Jensen's voice is scratchy and he feels like the words are sticking in his throat. "But maybe we just need to fuck up together instead of apart this time. I can't. I don't want to think about not having you with me, Jay, and I think you feel the same way."

Tell me you feel the same way, he silently begs, please tell me.

Jared nods.

"I never wanted to date an actor, anyway." Jensen grins. "I got enough ego for the both of us."

"No arguments here." Jared laughs, really laughs, with his head thrown back and his eyes wide open and Jensen wants to touch him so badly, it's the worst ache he's ever felt in his life.

"Did they hurt you?" Jensen asks, and he can't resist anymore, lays his hand on Jared's face, his thumb stroking Jared's cheekbone.

_Did they hurt you like I did?_

"I'm okay," Jared says, turning his face toward Jensen's hand, leaning into the touch. "Just take me home. Please."

Jensen closes his eyes and nods.

***

Jared's nervous as hell when Jensen opens the door and suddenly he's in Jensen's apartment, _their_ apartment, and it takes him a few minutes to adjust, panic rising in his chest and his breath shallow.

"You doing okay there?" Jensen asks, and he sounds so concerned that it borders on irritating. Jared doesn't need to be babied, he can take care of himself after all, he's been doing it for twenty-five years now, and. Well, yeah, he knows where that got him.

It still feels so uneasy, this reconciliation, and Jared can't help but think about what the hell they're going to do when the subject of work comes up, or his drug habit, or the fact that Jensen fucking cheated on him, or...

"Stop thinking so loud," Jensen whispers, dropping his jacket on the floor and kicking his boots off. "That's supposed to be my thing, remember?"

Yeah, I remember, Jared says to himself. I remember that's what got us into this mess in the first place.

"I'm nervous," he admits. "Actually, scared out of my fucking gourd might be more accurate."

"I know," Jensen says, pulling Jared in with an arm around his waist, gentle, tentative, just in case Jared wanted to say no.

Jared doesn't. This part, the sex, that was always easy, even when it was raw and painful. Jared nods and kicks off his shoes and Jensen's moving them into the bedroom. Jared brushes his lips over Jensen's, just barely a whisper, and Jensen pushes him back on the bed, licking into Jared's mouth. Jensen tastes and feels like everything Jared's been missing, and when he moans and whimpers and starts to deepen the kiss, Jared realizes that kissing Jensen is like coming home.

Jared's halfway hard already, and he lets his hands move down to Jensen's waist. Under his shirt and Jared's sliding his hands over the soft, vanilla skin there and unbuttoning Jensen's jeans, rubbing him against Jared's cock.

Jensen pulls back, red-faced and breathless, and Jared tries to get his mouth back where he wants it, and move his hips, but Jensen shakes his head and murmurs, "That's not how I wanna come tonight, Jay."

"Yeah, okay," he stammers out, and bites at Jensen's collarbone; needy, desperate. "Fuck me, then. Now."

"No." Jensen covers Jared's mouth with his fingers. "I want you to fuck me."

Jared feels twin threads of disbelief and utter fucking lust knotting their way through his gut. He pulls Jensen's hand away from his mouth and stares him down, warmth in his belly and blush staining his cheeks.

"You seem shocked." Jensen smirks at him and Jared immediately wants to make him pay for that.

"No, not shocked. Stunned might be the word. You never..."

"I know." Jensen pauses like he's choosing his words oh-so-carefully. "I just. I want you to. If you want…"

Jared can't even believe the way Jensen's request makes him feel. Physically, emotionally, it's all too much. He knows Jensen's offering himself as an apology, as faith and trust, and Jared can't help the lump that's forming at the back of his throat.

"Yes," he says, pulling Jensen's t-shirt over his head. "Are you kidding? Of course, Jensen. God."

He takes his own shirt off, and by the time he's pulled it over his head, Jensen is naked in front of him. Jared makes quick work of his jeans and briefs and when they're both naked, he stands up and pulls Jensen close so he can feel him, skin-to-skin. They feel so damn good together, smooth and slippery and Jared thinks he could get off on nothing but this, kinking out on Jensen's skin and freckles and mouth and fuck, just everything.

"I've never done this before," Jensen whispers against Jared's mouth. "Not with anyone."

God. God. Jared knew that was true, of course, but hearing him say it is like a punch to the gut, and Jensen's hardly a blushing virgin, but fuck. The power in it is unbelievable, and Jared kisses him, tongue fucking into Jensen's mouth and holding his head in place. His hips are moving against Jensen's, rubbing their cocks together, and Jared knows if they don't do this soon, he's going to come and fucked if he's doing that anywhere other than inside Jensen.

"We gotta, we gotta do this now," he says, his voice ragged and uneven, and Jensen nods, crossing the room and opening the drawer next to the bed, grabbing lube and condoms, lying on his back and stroking his stomach with his fingers. It's so unbelievably slutty that Jared can't help but growl, "Oh my God, gonna fuck you so hard, you have no idea what you're in for."

Jensen spreads his legs like a filthy little wanton, and grunts out, "So show me, already."

"Still such a toppy fucker," Jared laughs, and squeezes cool lube onto his fingers. "Gonna hurt, Jen, but fuck, you wait." He rubs at Jensen's hole with his thumb, coating it with lube so it's glistening, and eases one finger in. Jensen's tight, so tight, Jared's topped before, but he's never fucked a virgin, and he had no idea it felt like this.

Jensen flinches a little, hint of pain in his face, but soon he's moving his hips, fucking himself up and down on Jared's finger and grating out, "That all you got, Padalecki? Fuck me like I'd fuck you."

Jared laughs at that; if Jensen wants to be a pushy little bitch then he'll do just what he wants. What they both want. He pulls out his finger and pushes two in this time, slow and steady, but when he can feel Jensen adjusting around him, he pulls them out all the way and then shoves them back in, hard. Slippery heat and still so damn tight, but he can't wait to get his dick in there.

Jared can tell by the noises Jensen's making, and the desperate way his hips are writhing, that he wants more, and he asks, "Ready for a third?"

Jensen nods, and Jared's shoving all three fingers in, scissoring them, opening Jensen up as much as he can, because he's hurt him enough already, doesn't want to make this hurt, too.

Jensen moves his hand to his own cock to touch it and Jared bats it away.

"That's mine, Jen; I'll make you come, I swear to God."

"Then hurry up and--" Jensen moans, "--fuck me, okay? Just fuck me."

Jared doesn't wait for any more of an invitation; he rips open the foil packet and rolls the condom over his dick, coating it in lube and not letting his hand linger any longer than necessary. He's wound so tight, so fucking sensitized right now, that he figures one second too many and it's game over. He pulls Jensen's legs up and over his shoulders, and looks to him for approval. Jensen nods, and Jared slides himself in, slow and steady, stopping halfway when Jensen winces, until he nods again and then Jared's all the way inside.

Unbelievable heat and grip on his cock and he knows this is something Jensen would probably never have given anyone, and it makes him fucking insane that Jensen's giving it to him. He pulls almost all the way out, and pushes in again, all the way, and again, and again, in and out and the first six or seven strokes, Jensen just looks like it's hurting him and Jared really wants to stop, but in a second everything changes and on that stroke, Jensen's moaning, thrusting his hips up and murmuring, "Yeah, baby, that's it. Fuck me."

"Hell, yes." Jared's driving into him now, harder, faster strokes and it feels like he's getting deeper and deeper every time. Jensen's cock is pumping out pre-come like crazy and he's moaning and writhing and Jared grabs Jensen's head with one hand and pulls him in for a short, open-mouthed kiss.

"Going to make you come so hard," he murmurs into Jensen's neck as he pushes in again; he can feel his orgasm starting to build and he knows he's really fucking close: the hot tightness of Jensen's ass, his mouth, his skin and the fact that he's in this bed again when he was so convinced that it was all over, all working together to push him towards the edge. "Then, later, I'm going to fucking ride your cock and come all over your chest, and then? I'm going to lick it off."

Too much even to say it and Jared comes, kissing Jensen desperately and fucking his mouth, deep, just like he's fucking his ass.

"Jesus fuck," Jensen groans, and Jared pulls out slow, inch by inch, pulls the condom off and knots it, throws it in the trash next to the bedside.

"Thank you," he whispers against Jensen's mouth. "Thank you, Jen. I."

"Me too," Jensen says. "Me too, Jared."

Jared doesn't waste one second more, just goes down on Jensen's cock and sucks him hard and fast, his tongue dragging up the underside every time his mouth moves up and down Jensen's length. He grabs Jensen's hands and puts them in his hair and shit, he thinks he's missed this most of all, Jensen's hands gripping him as he drives his cock in and out of Jared's mouth, fucking it like it belongs to him.

Jensen lasts less than five minutes, shouts and curses and comes down Jared's throat for what feels like an eternity. Jared pulls back and licks his lips and falls down next to him.

He sleeps right through, till the next morning, and it feels like the first real sleep he's had since he left. Strung-out and drug-fucked doesn't exactly make for sweet dreams, but this, with Jensen, it's different. Peaceful. Normal.

He still doesn't know what the fuck they're going to do from this point in, but for now, he's okay with that.

Jensen's up already, and he brings two bottles of water with him when he comes back to the bedroom. He hands one over, and Jared unscrews the cap, drinks half of it in one go, now that he's awake he's aware of just how dehydrated he is.

Jensen gets back into bed and they sit there in silence for a few minutes.

"So." Jensen stops, and huffs out a breath, "are you going to stay?"

"I. Yeah. I think so. Do you want me to?" Jared hates how needy he sounds, but he can't help it, can’t help the fact that he sounds like he's so fucking desperate for Jensen's approval that he can't even keep his voice from shaking.

Jensen nods, and it feels like an ending as much as a beginning. He threads his fingers through Jared's, and it's not a happily ever after, but it's enough.

 

 

the end


End file.
